


A Little Satisfaction

by morrnrhu64



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Awkwardness, Because of Reasons, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, My OTP, Non-Explicit Sex, Pining, Romance, Some angst, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, as in sex happens but not described, friends with almost benefits?, ignoring all films after Days of Future Past, mentions of internalized misogyny, mentions of slut-shaming, playing fast and loose with canon, takes place somewhere in X2 i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 22:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrnrhu64/pseuds/morrnrhu64
Summary: Jean asks Logan for some help.  Somepersonalhelp.(Logan/Jean Grey, non-graphic sex, Jean needs help getting off.)





	

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO LIKES THIS PAIRING? *sob* Jean Grey/Wolverine (WolverJean???) is my OTP to end all OTPs and I shipped it before I knew I was shipping it.  
>  
> 
> I saw a prompt like this on a writing meme thing (which I have since lost, because I am scatterbrained), and decided to give it a shot. It was something like, "Character A isn't happy with their sex life, so they ask Character B to give them a hand, unaware that Character B is in love with them." Something like that :p
> 
> _______________________________________________________

"I need your help with something."

It ain't the first time Jean's said that to him--on the contrary, he's always game to do what he can for her. Whether she knows it's out of affection for her, Logan ain't sure; but since she never asks in a cutesy or intermittently seductive sort of way, he guesses that she realizes that he actually cares about her. At least, he hopes she knows. Jury's still out on that one.

Anyway, Logan says, "Sure thing, Red," like always, and follows her to wherever the problem is located.

Except for how Jean leads him into a kinda-empty side room that apparently hasn't seen much use. And also how she's a lot more nervous about her request than usual. Though it could just be she's kinda frazzled--the week had been a rough one, and everybody was ready for a break. 

"Ok, this is... this is gonna sound really weird. I'm sorry in advance, and I--I totally understand if you tell me to go to hell, but I just don't know who else to turn to--"

"Hey, it's all right," Logan tells her, starting to worry. "You know I'd do anything for ya. Just tell me what it is, and I'm on it."

Impossibly, she looks more upset than before, and spends a moment or two pacing the length of the little room, nervously messing with her hair. She'd had it cut in a stylish, quirky little bob sometime before Logan came back from his last excursion. He misses those long red waves and curls, but the cut really does suit her face, makes her look like the badass she is. She wouldn't look out of place on a bike--she'd be someone you wouldn't wanna mess with at the bar, 'cause she could kick your ass as soon as look at ya.

But it's none of his business how her hair's cut--and anyway, Jean has finally worked up the nerve to say what she wants.

"Ok. I was--I was wondering if you'd--if you'd, um, help me get off."

Logan almost says, "Off of what?" because never in a million years would he expect anyone to seriously ask him for an orgasm. Like, not that he hasn't slept around--because he has--but nobody has ever outright asked him for an orgasm like you'd ask for someone to pass the salt or whatever. It's kind of surreal.

"You... you want me to help you... get off?" He repeats slowly. "Like-- _get off_ , get off? Like--"

"Yes, get off, as in orgasm, as in, I don't know what the hell is wrong with me but I just haven't been able to get off in like two weeks no matter what I do and I'm really desperate here because _nothing is working_."

She looks kind of pissed off that he made her spell it all out like that, but she's obviously really, really embarrassed. Logan feels kinda bad for being so slow on the uptake.

"Well, shit, Jean," he says. "I just meant--why wouldn't you be askin' Scott? I mean, he's..."

"He's uptight and repressed and old-fashioned," Jean says with a sigh. "I... look, he's a good guy, and I love him. But I can't... ask him like that. I can't say, 'Hey, Scott, I've been faking orgasms for like a year now, can you maybe get better at sex?' That's--that's cruel, and--and it's mean, and it's... completely true."

She sighs again, and actually looks like she's close to tears. "I am the worst girlfriend ever. I... it's probably not even him. It's probably me. I don't know what's wrong with me--usually I can get off just fine on my own, but with him..."

"Uh," says Logan, because he's kind of out of his depth here. "I mean... maybe you could just, like, say you wanna... try somethin' else? That way you don't have to say that he's a bad lay--just that you had an idea for something different. Hell, maybe he'll learn something new."

"This is so weird," Jean says, sitting down on a slightly musty arm chair. "I'm sorry. You... you're right, I should just... say that. But I can't. I mean, where would I say I got it from?"

"From a friend?" Logan suggests, sitting down, too. "From a porno?"

"Women don't watch porn, Logan," she says sarcastically. "Women don't talk about sex like _that_ , except in bad movies or maybe Skinemax. And Those Women are sluts. Good Women don't do that. A Good Girl like me isn't supposed to masturbate or watch porn or do anything to satisfy herself sexually. The only thing a Good Girl fantasizes about is her wedding, or maybe what it'd be like to have kids."

"I am probably not the best person to have this conversation with," Logan admits, "but for what it's worth, I think that's fuckin' stupid. Like, one of the stupidest fucking things I've ever heard of. 'Cause, seriously--those double standards are total bullshit. Fuck that noise, Jeannie. Do what you want. If people don't like it, then fuck them. I mean, not _literally_ fuck them. Unless you want to fuck them. 'Cause then, fuck them. But--I mean--"

At least it makes her smile. "I know what you mean. Thanks. I just... I guess I'm just a coward. I guess I'm scared of being anything less than perfect. Scared of disappointing people. Scott, the Professor... I don't want to be called a whore. I think I'd take being called a hypocrite and a coward before a whore. You know, my priorities sound less reasonable when I say them out loud."

"Hey," Logan says more gently, putting his arm around her shoulders. "You're only human, Jean. It ain't right or fair for people to expect you to be anything else. Besides, bein' human is a hell of a lot more interesting than bein' perfect, wouldn't you say?"

She laughs to hide a sniffle, and turns away. "Stop it. I'm horny and emotionally vulnerable, and that's not a good combination around a hot guy who isn't my boyfriend."

Normally Logan would tease her, like, _This guy could be your boyfriend if you wanted_ , or, more probably, _You think I'm hot?_ But he's kinda disturbed that she thinks he'd actually disrespect her that way.

"Seriously, Jean," he says, "I could never--I'd never take advantage of you like that. Hell, I wouldn't do that to anybody--but least of all, to you."

"No, no, I don't--" Jean stops, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I'm going about this all wrong. I can barely think straight; this week has been hell and next week isn't looking much better. Have I mentioned how much I hate politics?"

"It bears repeating. But. I mean. Look, I don't... I can't say I like Cyke, 'cause I don't. But even though he's a dick, he--he does... love you. How could he not love you? Everyone loves you. I don't think he'd rather have his ego jerked off than see you--you know. Happy. Who the hell would do that? Especially to a woman like you. 'Cause you're--you know. So. Seriously, nobody would do that--and if he would, then, fuck him. I mean, not _fuck him_ , fuck him. But fuck him, like--I'm gonna shut up now."

"Please don't fuck my boyfriend," says Jean, smiling a little.

"I would fuck a hole in the ground before I'd fuck your boyfriend," Logan tells her with complete honesty. 

"Even a hole in the ground sounds pretty good right now." Jean leans back in the chair, trapping his arm between the cushion and the nape of her neck. The feathery-soft ends of her hair brush lightly against his skin when she tilts her head to look at him.

"I feel like such a jerk," Jean admits. "I... I'm too much of a coward to talk to my boyfriend, so I go running to the guy who flirts with me all the time? Great job, Jean Grey--you're a real prize. I'm such a mess. Why am I doing bad things? I need to stop doing bad things."

"You're not doin' bad things," says Logan. "I mean, maybe you're considerin' a dick move, but you ain't done nothin' yet. You're too hard on yourself."

"I don't want to hurt him," she whispers. "But I don't think it's right for me to side-step that by hurting someone else, instead--even if that someone is only me. I... I'm just... tired. And stressed. I want to stop worrying and just... _feel_. Feel _something_. Something good, if possible, but..."

It's an awful idea--probably one of the top ten worst ideas he's ever had--but Logan can't bear to watch her suffer, even if it means he'll have to pay with his own suffering later on. Because the truth is that he is completely, ridiculously, hopelessly in love with her, and he wants nothing more than to be with her, to make her happy, to see that radiant smile and hear that beautiful laugh---

And he knows, he _knows_ that this is awful--having serious feelings for her and agreeing to a no-strings thing when she's with another guy. He knows he's setting himself up for a world of hurt, and if anybody finds out and this all comes crashing down, it's gonna crash hard and it's gonna be a big fuckin' mess.

But... but Jean's unhappy. The woman he loves is unhappy, and there's something he can do about it. So how is he supposed to not do it? Even if it hurts him, how the hell is he supposed to deny her a little comfort when she's in a shitty situation, when she's overwhelmed and just needs a break?

Logan says, real soft, "There's nothing 'only' about you, Jean. If you really want me to do this..."

"I really want you to," Jean says immediately, and he's not sure if that makes things better or worse.

"Ok. Uh. What did you...?"

"Um--I mean, whatever you're comfortable with. You don't have to--to do anything... crazy. Just. I'm practically drowning, here, all I need is a push over the edge."

"Oh," says Logan, because none of the other things he can think to say are appropriate. Also because she's a mind reader, and if he continues to think of those inappropriate things, it might lead to trouble. "So--so just... my hand, or...?"

"Anything's fine," she says earnestly, and he feels bad about it for some reason. "I am seriously desperate. I will take anything I can get. I mean--not _anything_ , anything, not--I mean, I wouldn't trust anybody with this but you. I... I just have no one else to turn to, and I'm sorry for dumping all this on you, putting pressure on you like--so what I'm trying to say is that I don't want to make you uncomfortable, or to--to make you do things you don't want to do just because you feel bad for me or anything like that." She's blushing something fierce. It's a little bit adorable.

"Hey, it's fine," Logan tells her. "If I weren't cool with it, I wouldn't have agreed." It might not be completely true. "So you just--tell me what you want. And don't worry about if it's weird, or whatever. 'Cause let me tell you, I seen some weird shit. Nothin' fazes me anymore."

"Oh," says Jean. She looks even more embarrassed, if that's actually possible, so she probably has something in mind. "Um. Do you. I mean. How do you feel about... oral sex?"

"I am a firm believer in oral sex," says Logan. "You want me to go down on you, I'd be more 'n happy to. Uh. Wait. Not--"

"I know, it's ok. I. Um. Scott doesn't... it would just--it would just be nice to do something... different, you know? Something to just..."

"Take care of ya?" he offers. Her guilty look is confirmation enough. "All right. I can do that. You wanna do this--like, here? Right now?"

Jean is biting her lip, and it's kind of really attractive. "Is that ok with you?" She daintily tucks a lock of hair back behind her ear. She's entirely too pretty. He can stop himself from leaning over to kiss her, but he can't stop himself from wanting to. He needs a little space.

"Yeah," Logan says with a shrug, because there's no need to prolong either of their suffering. "Just--you... get comfortable, and I'll get the door."

It's kind of an excuse to hide his face for a moment, so he can make sure to keep it all together. Last thing he needs is to start acting like a freak--it'd be bad enough if he flaked out, like part of his mind is begging him to do. He's never been particularly diligent about that kind of self-preservation, so it's kinda funny to all of a sudden have this crazy urge to run before he gets his heart broke. But there's no reason to start making decisions in the interest of his emotional health out of fucking nowhere.

So he locks the door, and goes back over to the arm chair, where Jean is having a last-minute panic.

"Should--should I take off my...? Oh, god, I can't believe I'm doing this. If Scott found out... please, Logan, don't think about this in front of the Professor, he's--he's like my dad, and if he thought I was a whore I don't think I could take it..."

"You're not a whore," Logan tells her. "So stop sayin' that about yourself. It ain't true. And you don't haveta worry about Cyke or Chuck. 'S none of their business, anyway, but I'm good at keepin' stuff on lock-down, if I have to."

He doesn't realize how weird that sounds until he notices Jean giving him a strange look, so he just gets down on his knees on the floor and asks if she wanted it that way.

"I--I don't know," Jean says with a nervous giggle. "I've never seen a guy on his knees to give a woman head."

"No? It's more convenient than, like, standing. But I guess lying down is easiest on your back. Goddamn hardwood floors."

"Yeah." She relaxes a little. "And forget carpeting. Rug-burns everywhere..."

"Rug-burns are the fuckin' worst. It doesn't matter how quick you heal from it. Nothin' worse 'n having layers of your skin rubbed off."

Jean laughs again, and tentatively reaches out to touch his cheek. It's only very gently, just a brush of her fingertips, and Logan makes himself keep still the way he's seen Kitty freeze up when a butterfly lands on her arm. 

You have to hold still, she'd said, so you don't disturb them. Even if you wanna touch--if you touch, it'll hurt them, so you just hold still and look. 

"Thanks for not freaking out on me," Jean says quietly. "You're a really good friend. Sometimes... sometimes I think you're the only one who really knows me. Or, at least, who knows me the way I'm too scared to let anybody else know me."

"It's their loss," Logan says, as though his heart ain't breaking. "Maybe one day you'll decide you wanna share that with them, but until then? They're missin' out on one hell of a woman."

Jean's smile is bittersweet. But she just says, "Thank you. If--if there's anything I can do in return..."

"Don't you worry," he says. "You're always takin' care of everybody. This time, let somebody else take care of you."

"Ok." She almost shyly undoes the button on her jeans, and fiddles with the fly. 

Logan helps her ease them down her shapely legs, so that there's room for him to get closer to her. She wasn't kidding about the drowning thing; she's soaked through her skivvies, and he tries not to groan at the sight, the scent of her arousal. He knew he'd get hot under the collar, but being so worked up so quick is kind of embarrassing. 

But this ain't about him. So he focuses entirely on Jean, running a hand along her thigh as he looks up at her to make sure everything's still all right.

She's already breathing kinda funny, and he wonders why until she says, "Why am I finding it so hot that you're kneeling in front of me? Oh, god. Ok. Ok, I'm ok."

"And you'll tell me if you're not, right?"

She takes one more steadying breath, and then she's made her decision. "I'll tell you."

"All right," he says. "So I'll just... get to it, then."

"Ok."

"Ok."

Ok. This is more awkward than he thought it would be.

He'd feel weird to just--just shove his face in her crotch with no preamble, though, so he starts with light caresses, only with his fingertips, through the fabric of her underthings--taking his time, in case she changes her mind.

"You ok?" Logan asks, still being real careful.

"Yeah, I'm--yeah. Just--ignore me," she says, not quite looking him in the eyes.

"I can't exactly ignore ya, Red," he says, trying to smirk and put her at ease. "But I can take a hint. Want me to--?"

"Oh--I got it, that's ok." She slips her lacy delicates down so they're inside her jeans, and sits on her sweater like she's afraid to leave any evidence behind.

And Logan's... well. He's conflicted. On the one hand, she's obviously embarrassed and wants to avoid eye contact. On the other, he feels kinda weird to just, like, stare at her like she's some anatomy diagram. On the other _other_ hand (the one he doesn't have), he's trying not to be turned on, and it's not working, because he's really, _really_ turned on.

She's a good-looking woman in every possible way, and even if he didn't have a sensitive nose, he'd still be drowning in her scent--it's warm, light, not familiar but it feels like it could be, like a scent he could get used to and wants to get used to, it's nice and--there's something weirdly comforting about it, and it's just--it's just... right.

Which is really, really weird. But there ya go.

So he's trying not to slobber like a dog, but his mouth is kind of watering from wanting to see if the taste is as good as the scent. He's not sure if it ain't worse that he can actually find out, as opposed to just wondering, alone in his room at night when everybody else is asleep and it feels like there's no place in the world for someone like him. But that sucks pretty bad, too, so Logan's not about to make a call either way.

Instead he tries to concentrate on what he's doing. Jean's already real worked up--practically trembling, head thrown back and eyes shut tight.

"Still ok?" Logan asks, because she has a white-knuckled grip on the arms of the chair and looks more like she's in pain than anything else.

"I'm--I'm f--oh, god, do that again, please do that again," she says in a single breath. 

"Like this?"

Jean's response is to clamp a hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide a kind of whimper, and it just kind of hits Logan that, wow, she's really being left high and dry by ol' Cyclops. How can he not tell that his lady's unhappy? How can he just--not know? Even if she doesn't wanna make him feel bad--even if she's not outright saying anything, how can he not tell at least from her body language that maybe something's up? He can't be that blind to her feelings. He can't be that self-absorbed. Come on, this is Boy Scout Summers, here, not fuckin' Sabretooth.

All that realization does is encourage Logan to try and make it up to her a little. To just--make it real good for her, since it seems like Cyke has no intention of doin' that, himself. Jean deserves to be happy--she does so much for everybody, she always does right by everybody. Somebody oughta do right by her.

He honestly does enjoy going down on a woman, so he's gotten pretty good at it, thanks to all the practice. He might actually be enjoying it a little too much, so he keeps his hands above the belt, on her thigh and on the seat-cushion of the chair where she can see 'em. Because as much as part of him is chompin' at the bit to let loose, itching for a chance to show her a real good time--to show her that not every man is as careless a lover as Summers is, that there's at least one man out there who'd be more than happy to treat her better...

As much as part of him wants that, the rest of him loves her too much to let himself twist her simple request into a petty way to one-up ol' Cyclops. He can't do that to her. Not when she trusts him. Not when he knows it won't make things any easier for her. She's got enough to worry about.

Like Jean had said, she only needed a push, so in reality the whole thing doesn't last all that long. She twitches and shakes the entire time, and has to fight to keep quiet, and she comes like broken flood-gates, but he doesn't mind. He sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth on his sleeve, while she sinks a little further into the chair, boneless with relief.

"Thank you," Jean says softly, looking at him with her lips parted and her eyes half-lidded and her breathing still unsteady. He'd give anything to be able to hold her in his arms, to lie back somewhere nice and quiet with her and tell her some things that have been weighing too long on his heart. To be the lucky son of a bitch who gets to make her look so content, like she feels safe and comfortable with him no matter what, like she knows that he loves her for who she is and doesn't want to change her. "You--uh, you're... really good at that."

"Anything for you, Red," Logan says, because he can't think of anything else. He is definitely not looking at her, 'cause she hasn't put her clothes back on yet and so he can still see everything and smell _everything_ and he's so painfully hard that it's possible he'll totally lose it and go off in his pants like a teenager--

"Oh--I'm sorry," Jean says when she notices. She quickly puts herself to rights, and stands there while he's still kinda crouched on the floor, and they look at each other awkwardly. "Are you sure you don't want me to--uh..."

"Nah, that's--no, I just, uh, need a minute." He's either too proud or too weak to let her return the favor, especially when he's not sure if he could even be cool about it. It makes him wonder if he should apologize for his obvious hard-on, since it might come off like he's being stubborn, when the truth is that he just doesn't want her to think he's pathetic. Even if it's possibly true.

Eventually she says, "I--I have a class really soon, so I'll... I'll see you later, ok?"

"Yeah," says Logan. "Sure. See ya."

"Yeah," she says with a heart-felt (if slightly embarrassed) smile. "Bye. And... thanks again. I... I really mean that."

She leaves before he can say anything else, and considerately closes the door behind her. Logan decides that maybe he'll just stay there for a while. Just... because. 

Just because.


End file.
